No. 2. 

Just Published. The "Popular Edition" of Baker's Reading Club and Hand 
Speaker. Nos. 1, 2. and 3. 50 selections in each. Price IS cents earh. 

PR 5232 
.R16 U6 
Copy 1 




Copyright, 1876, by George M. Baker 



Spencer's Universal Stage. 

A Collection of COMEDIES, DRAMAS, and FARCES, adapted to either Public or Private 
Performance. Containing a full description of all the 
necessary Stage Business. 

PRICE, 15 CENTS EACH, sr- No Plays Exchanged. 



1. LOST IN" LONDON. A Drama in 3 Acts. 

6 male, 4 female characters. 

2. NICHOLAS FLAM. A Comedy in 2 Acts. 

By J. B. Buckstone. 5 male, 3 female char. 

3. THE "WELSH G-IRL. A Comedy in 1 Act. 

By Mrs. Plauche. 3 male, 2 female char. 

4. JOHN WOPPS. A Farce in 1 Act By 

W. E. Suter. 4 male, 2 female char. 

5. THE TURKISH BATH. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By Montague Williams and F. C Burnand. 

male, 1 female char. 

6. THE TWO PTJDDIFOOTS. A Farce in 1 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 

7. OLD HONESTY. A Comic Drama in 2 

Acts. By J. M. Morton. 5 male, 2 female char. 

8. TWO GENTLEMEN IN A FIX. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male char. 

9. SMASHING-TON GOIT. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By T. J. Williams. 5 male, 3 female char. 

10. TWO HEADS BETTER THAN ONE. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By Lenox Home. 4 male, 

1 female char. 

11. JOHN DOBBS. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. 

Morton. 5 male, 2 female char. 

12. THE DAUGHTER of the REGIMENT. 

A Drama in 2 Acts. By Edward Fitzball, 
6 male, 2 female char. 

13. ATTNT CHARLOTTE'S MAID. A Farce in 1 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 

14. BROTHER BILL AND ME. A Farce in 

1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 4 male, 3 female char. 

15. DONE ON BOTH SIDES. A Farce in 1 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 2 female char. 

16. DUNDUCKETTY'S PICNIC. A Farce in 1 

Act. By T. J. Williams. G male, 3 female char. 

17. I'VE "WRITTEN TO BROWNE. A Farce 

in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female 
char. 

19. MY PRECIOUS BETSY. A Farce in 1 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 4 male, 4 female char. 

20. MY TURN NEXT. A Farce in 1 Act. By 

T. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female char. 

22. THE PHANTOM BREAKFAST. A Farce 

in 1 Act. By Chas. Selby. 3 male, 2 female char. 

23. DANDELION'S DODGES. A Farce in 1 

Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 2 female char. 

24. A SLICE OF LUCK. A Farce in 1 Act. By 

J. M. Morton. 4 male, 2 female char. 

25. ALWAYS INTENDED. A Comedy in 1 

Act. By Horace Wigan. 3 male, 3 female char. 

26. A BULL IN A CHINA SHOP. A Comedy 

in 2 Acts. By Charles Matthews. 6 male, 4 
female char. 

27. ANOTHER GLASS. A Drama in 1 Act. By 

Thomas Morton. 6 male, 3 female char. 

28. BOWLED OUT. A Farce in 1 Act. By H. 

T. Craven. 4 male, 3 female char. 

29. COUSIN TOM. A Commedietta in 1 Act. By 

Geo. Roberts. 3 male, 2 female char. 

30. SARAH'S YOUNG MAN. A Farce in 1 

Act. By W. E. Suter. 3 male, 3 female char. 

31. HIT HIM, HE HAS NO FRIENDS. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By E. Yates and N. H. Har- 
rington. 7 male, 3 female char. 

32. THE CHRISTENING. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By J. B. Buckstone. 5 male, 6 female char. 

33. A RACE FOR A WIDOW. A Farce in 1 

Act. By T. J. Williams. 5 male, 4 female char. 

34. YOUR LIFE'S IN DANGER. A Farce in 

1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 

35. TRUE UNTO DEATH. A Drama in 2 Acts. 

By J. Sheridan Knowles. 6 male, 2 female char. 

Descriptive Catalogue mailed free on application to 

CEO. M. BAKER & CO., 41 



36. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. An Interlude 
in 1 Act. By W. H. Murray. 10 male, 1 female 
char. 



A Farce in 1 Act. 
6 male, 1 female 



By 



^ 



37. LOOK AFTER BROWN. 
By George A. Stuart, M. D. 
char. 

38. MONSEIGNEUR. A Drama in 3 Acts. 
Thomas Archer. 15 male, 3 female char. 

39. A VERY PLEASANT EVENING. A 
Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 3 male char. 

40. BROTHER BEN. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. 
M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 

41. ONLY A CLOD. A Comic Drama in 1 Act. 
By J. P. Simpson. 4 male, 1 female char. 

42. GASPARDO THE GONDOLIER. A 
Drama in 3 Acts. By George Almar. 10 male, 
2 female char. 

43. SUNSHINE THROUGH THE CLOUDS. 
A Drama in 1 Act. By Slingsby Lawrence. 3 
male, 3 female char. 

44. DON'T JUDGE BY APPEARANCES. A 
Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 2 
female char. 

45. NURSE Y CHICKWEED. A Farce in 1 Act. 
By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 2 female char. 

46. MARY MOO ; or, Which shall I Marry? 
A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male, 1 
female char. 

47. EAST LYNNE. A Drama in 5 Acts. 8 male, 
7 female char. 

48. THE HIDDEN HAND. A Drama in 5 Acts. 
By Robert Jones. 16 male, 7 female char. 

49. SILVERSTONE'S WAGER. A Commedi- 
etta in 1 Act. By R. R. Andrews. 4 male, 3 fe- 
male char. 

50. DORA. A Pastoral Drama in 3 Acts. By Chas. 
Reade. 5 male, 2 female char. 

55. THE WIFE'S SECRET. A Play in 5 Acts. 
By Geo. W. Lovell. 10 male, 2 female char. 

56. THE BABES IN THE WOOD. A Com- 
edy in 3 Acts. By Tom Taylor. 10 male, 3 fe- 
male char. 

57. PUTKINS ; Heir to Castles in the Air. 
A Comic Drama in 1 Act. By W. R. Emerson. 

2 male, 2 female char. 

58. AN UGLY CUSTOMER. A Farce in 1 Act. 
By Thomas J. Williams. 3 male, 2 female char. 

59. BLUE AND CHERRY. A Comedy in 1 Act. 

3 male, 2 female char. 

60. A DOUBTFUL VICTORY. A Comedy in 

1 Act. 3 male, 2 female char. 

61. THE SCARLET LETTER. A Drama in 3 
Acts. 8 male, 7 female char. 

62. WHICH WILL HAVE HIM ? A Vaude- 
ville. 1 male, 2 female char. 

63. MADAM IS ABED. A Vaudeville in 1 Act 

2 male, 2 female char. 

64. THE ANONYMOUS KISS. A Vaudeville. 
2 male, 2 female char. 

65. THE CLEFT STICK. A Comedy in 8 Acts. 
5 male, 3 female char. 

66. A SOLDIER, A SAILOR, A TINKER, 
AND A TAILOR. A Farce in 1 Act. 4 male, 
2 female char. 

GIVE A DOG A BAD NAME. A Farce. 
2 male, 2 female char. 

68. DAMON AND PYTHIAS. A Farce. 6 
male, 4 female char. 

69. A HUSBAND TO ORDER. A Serio-comic 
Drama in 2 Acts. 5 male, 3 female char. 

70. PAYABLE ON DEMAND. A Domestic 
Drama in 2 Acts. 7 male, 1 female char. 



■45 Franklin St., Boston 



67. 



UNDER A VEIL. 



a Cometiietta in @nz &ct 



SIR RANDAL ROBERTS, Bart., 



GEORGE M. BAKER, 



BOSTON : 

GEORGE M. BAKER AND COMPANY, 

41 Franklin Street. 
1877. 



f lit 



CHARACTERS. 



Charles Devereaux. 
Pritchard. 
Elizabeth. 
Waiter. 

Costumes modern. 



Copyright. 
By GEO. M. BAKER. 

1877.. 



UNDER A VEIL. 



Scene I. — Two rooms right and left, stage divided in the 

centre; a door of coimnu'nication between rooms, fastened by 

a bolt on either side ; small tables, sofas, and arm-chairs. 

Practicable doors, i e l., 2 E. l., and 2d e. r. Window 

at back of R. room. Door at back of L. room. 

Pri. {advancing towards table). Beg pardon, sir. 

Cha. (lazily). All right. 

Pri. Beg pardon, sir, exceedingly sorry to disturb you ; 
(to Waiter) he's asleep. 

Cha. (snores.) 

Pri. {loudly). I'm really very sorry to wake you, sir. 

Cha. (still lying on sofa). What ! you don't mean to say 
it's twelve. 

Pri. Twelve ! ah, to be sure, the hour I was to wake him 
for the ball. No, sir, it's only ten o'clock ; but {looking at 
him) he's asleep again — the devil ! (Calling loudly.) I'm 
really pained to awake you, sir — 

Cha. (half rising and yawning). What on earths the 
matter ? Oh, it's you, Mr. Red Lion, is it? {Sinks back, 

Pri. Beg pardon, sir, I am not Red Lion : it is my neigh- 
bor of the next hotel I suppose you allude to. Here, sir, 
you are in the first and best hotel in the town, -* the White 
Horse. 

Cha. (stretching himself on sofa). All right, with all my 
heart, then, Mr. White Horse. What is it ? 

Pri. Well, sir, the fact is, I'm in a dreadful fix — a most 
awkward predicament, out of which I cannot extricate myself 
without your assistance. You see, sir, if you will only pardon 

3 



4 UNDER A VEIL. 

it, but my daughter was only married to-day. Yes, sir, 
married ; in fact, sir, she was married to make her happy — 
you know, sir, — you understand ! And, sir, just as we are 
having a little dance in honor of this marriage, which takes 
up all our spare accommodation, a lady and her maid arrive, 
asking for rooms ; and, as they require two beds in one room, 
I dared to hope that perhaps, sir, you would oblige me by 
changing this room for the next one. You see, sir, that the 
bedroom belonging to this sitting-room has two beds, whilst 
in here {throwing open door in centre partition) there is only 
one bed, though in all respects furnished in the same manner. 
If you, sir, would oblige me by just looking in {on turning to 
Charles, finds him asleep) — Confound it, he's asleep again ! 
{To audience.) An idea occurs to me ; {turning to Waiter) 
here, George, catch hold of one end of this sofa. {They 
take sofa, and carry it into next room with Charles asleep 
on it. There, I don't believe he'll find it out ; here, George, 
his luggage. {Brings baggage, but leaves letter^ There, now, 
that's all right, and' now {entering next door, and closing with 
bolt) I can fetch the ladies up. ; {Exit. 

Re-enter Prichard ushering in Lucy and Elizabeth. 
Prichard carrying candle. Charles asleep in 
r. h. room. 

Pri. These are the rooms, madam. This door leads into 
the bedroom. 

[Shows door i E. L., and Elizabeth takes luggage in. 

Luc. Many thanks. Don't forget the horses at six o'clock 
to-morrow morning. 

Pri. To the moment, madam. {Aside to Elizabeth, who 
has re-e?itered.) If you can find time, join us downstairs. 
Don't forget ; I shall expect you. 

Eliz. All right ; as soon as missus has done with me. 

{Exit Pri. 

Cha. (r. h., waking up). Hullo ! there's somebody talking 
in the next room. [Listens, silting up. 

Luc. Y911 seem to know the landlord, Elizabeth ? 

Eliz. Oh, yes, ma'am, I've known him for some time : 
his wife was a friend of mine, and his daughter that married 
to-day is my godchild. 

Luc. Indeed ! Then I suppose you'd like to join them 
downstairs. You can go, and I'll open my things myself. 

Eliz. Oh, thank you, mum I [Exit I* 2 E. 



UNDER A VEIL. 5 

Lucy unpacking her boxes, L. H. 
Cha. {sitting on side of sofa, r. h.). By Jove ! one hears 
every thing that is going on next door. Seems to be a lady 
and her maid — not very gentlemanly to listen, Master 
Charley, but it's interesting. Ah, well ! when I was young 
this might have led to an adventure. I should never have 
rested until I had made the acquaintance of my fair neigh- 
bor, — for I suppose she is fair, — whilst now there's not the 
slightest danger. Confound it ! I must see this woman, 
though. {Rising, and going towards door.) Hullo ! I could 
have sworn the'lock of the door was on the other side just 
now. That's deuced funny. {Looking round the room.) 
Why, where the mischief am I ? and how on earth did I get 
here ? 

Luc. {looking at her watch). Half-past ten. 
Cha. Ah ! I understand. I thought I had a terrible night- 
mare. A frightful monster held me by the feet, and another 
by the head ; it appears, however, that these monsters must 
have been the Red Lion or the White Horse, and my room 
has been given to this lady, whoever she may be, to suit 
their convenience. Well, I don't care very much about see- 
ing her. All women are alike — just as cats are all alike. 
{Stoops down to examine the door.) Why, there's no lock! 
only a bolt. Well, I can't help that; let's see if we can't 
get another nap until it's time to go to the ball. 

[Returns to sofa. 
Luc. {book in hand, seated on sofa). This " Voyage round 
the World " is always a charming book to read. 

She puts her book upon the table, and leans her head 

upon her arm as if to read book; perceives 

letter. 

Luc. Why, here's somebody's letter ! {Takes it up, com- 

ing down front.) Not very ladylike to read it, I suppose ; but 

all women are curious. Seems to be unfinished. Of course 

it's very wrong to read this letter {reads), — 

" My dear George, — As I quite anticipated on my 
return from home, the Government appointment I ex- 
pected has been given to another. Pardon me, if on 
receiving this intelligence, I quitted London without 
bidding you adieu — and as it seems " — 
This is really too bad of me, — 

" that I am too lazy to do any thing, as you all of you 
always said " — [Pausing. 



6 UNDER A VEIL. 

What on earth does that mean? T should much like to see 
the author {reading again from letter), — 

" I intend as soon as I have realized what property I have, 
to go to Baden, and once more try my luck at the tables. 
If I win, I shall found a hospital: and if I lose —well, in 
that case, the only thing I can see for me to do is to 
join my mother." ^Finishing reading letter. 

That's all ; this gentleman has got no further,, or else he has 
taken away the end of it. 

[Commences re-reading in a low tone. 

Cha. {rousing himself). Oh ! I can't lay here any longer. 
Morpheus won't come to my aid. What shall I do ? Welt, 
I might just as well finish my letter to George. Why ! wl\at 
the deuce have I done with it ? {Searches in his pockets.) 
Why, it seems to me I left it on the table before I went to 
sleep. [He looks upon the table. 

Luc. {again reading letter). " In that case, the only thing 
I can see for me to do is to join my mother." 

Cha. {striking his forehead). Confound it ! I've left it 
in the next room. 

Luc. {putting down letter, and taking up book). After all, 
I'm not George, and I've no right to read that letter. 

Cha. But then my letter must be in the power of this 
woman. It appears to me that I've a perfect right to — 

[Knocks gently at door. 

Luc. Good gracious ! there's some one knocking. Who is 
there ? What do you want ? 

Cha. A thousand pardons, madam. I am the person who 
inhabited a few minutes ago the room you now occupy ; and 
by accident in leaving the room I left an unfinished letter. 

Luc. {aside). Dear me ! This is the young gentleman 
that's too lazy for any thing. 

Cha. Would you be kind enough to return me my letter ? 

Luc. {embarrassed). Sir, I'll ring in order that your letter 
may be brought to you. 

Cha. A thousand pardons, madam ; but pray don't trou- 
ble to ring. Can't you slip it under the door ? 

Luc. Oh, certainly ! There it is. [Passes letter. 

Cha. Thanks. {Aside.) A charming voice, — soft as a 
bird's ; and, if the plumage only corresponds — {He goes to 
examine fastening) Confound this bolt ! Infamous hotel ! 
{He returns to table, and prepares to write) By the way, I 



UNDER A VEIL. 7 

should like to know if she's read this (looking at letter). 
Well, there's a very old method for ascertaining that : ask 
her. {Goes to door, and knocks.) Madam, pardon me — 

Luc. What do you want, sir ? 

Cha. Madam, my letter was left open on the table ; and 
in taking it up — without, of course, the slightest desire — 
your eye must naturally have fallen upon it, and — 

Luc. (aside). I understand. (Aloud.) I don't understand 
you, sir; and, inasmuch as I've done what you desire, I 
must beg that we have no further conversation, as I shall 
refuse to answer. 

Cha. Why, may I ask ? I was asleep just now, and 
dreaming charmingly. If you like, I'll tell you the dream. 

Luc. Certainly not, sir. 

Cha. Very good : it'll keep for another time ; but then, 
inasmuch as it was you that woke me up, permit me at least 
to converse with you as a compensation. 

Luc. (aside). He is not stupid. 

Cha. I beg pardon : did you speak ? 

Luc. (aside). What have I to dread? He seems a gentle- 
man. (Aloud) Well, sir, proceed, as you consider yourself 
aggrieved ; only remember that I trust to your feelings as a 
gentleman, and your discretion. 

Cha. Madam, you may depend upon it. (Wheeling arm- 
chair to door, and speaking through keyhole.) Are you 
married ? 

Luc. (affronted and aside). Upon my word ! (Aloud) Do 
you call that discretion, sir ? 

Cha. Most certainly; as a subject of conversation I see 
nothing against it. Society prescribes certain forms of con- 
versation ; and, to ascertain what forms to use, one must 
know whether one is speaking to a widow or a young girl, 
to an old maid or a married woman. 

Luc. In — I — I am married. 

Cha. (aside). So much the worse. I, madam, am a 
bachelor, and I'm going to Baden. Where may you be 
going ? 

Luc. A long way off, sir. 

Cha. To — 

Luc. To rejoin my husband, naturally. 

Cha. By the way, madam, do you love your husband ? 

Luc. Excuse me, sir, but, if you don't mind, we'll change 
the conversation. 



8 UNDER A VEIL. 

Cha. Whatever pleases you, madam, pleases me. (Pause!) 
A charming hotel, madam, is this Golden Lion. So well 
furnished, so well decorated ! My goodness me ! it gives 
me the inclination to set fire to the place. 

Luc. If you've any such intentions, sir, pray remember 
that I'm in the hotel. 

Cha. Very good ; only just remember, that, in not setting 
fire to the hotel, I'm saving your life. (A paused By the 
way, madam, now I come to think of it, you do not love your 
husband. 

Luc. Sir ! 

Cha. When one is compelled to separate one's self from 
a husband that one loves, one is not so light-hearted as you 
were just now, and — 

Luc. Really, sir ! 

Cha. Madam, pardon me, but you do not evidently pos- 
sess a husband who would make you cry out in the words of 
Sterne, " Oh, Love, king of gods and men ! " Now, if it had 
been my fate to have crossed your path, I swear that — 

Luc. And I swear to you, sir, that I would never marry a 
man who was too lazy to do any thing. 

Cha. Madam, you have read my letter. 

Luc. I, sir ? oh, dear, no ! I can assure you I only looked 
at it. By the way, would you mind informing me how it is 
that you came to inhabit this room ? 

Cha. Well, the fact is, I went to sleep on the sofa : I've 
some faint recollection of the landlord coming in and asking 
me something about moving out ; but he was so long about 
it that I fell asleep again, and during that time I fancy he 
had me quietly carried, sofa and all, into the next room. By 
the way, I have a charming idea. 

Luc. May I venture to ask it ? (Aside) I should like to 
have a look at this man. 

Cha. Madam, in the East, you are aware that a veil is a 
protecting wall between man and woman. If you would 
endeavor to put on such a veil, and would do me the honor 
of granting me an interview, — the landlord can supply us 
with refreshments, — we can converse more easily than 
through this partition ; in fact, we shall be in the East ; and, 
further, I pledge myself on my honor as a gentleman, that 
nothing shall in any way cause you to regret our inter- 
view. 



UNDER A VEIL. 



/ ue (aside) His letter announces that he intends to risk 
his fortune What if 1 could dissuade h.m ? .t would at 
feast be the act of a Christian, and -and ^a^man 

Cha. What! not a word? must I then Deseecn >uu 

con " ? —~" 

Isinjrs.) Oh ! let my voice persuasive 

Penetrate to your inmost heart ; 
Oh ! list to my prayer so plaintive, 

Through the door that keeps us apart. m 
T„r T consent, but upon one condition ; and that is, 
that you explain to' me ho£ it is that a man can be too lazy 

t0 ar y Very g good ; at least I will explain to you the mean- 

ing L i *t"^^<^«°v * * f - *— s i sha11 

pr-senting myself. (Goes to window, calling) Mr. Kea 
^E^SS Id better alter my *jg£W. 
" S down stage). He has absolutely conde- 

P« For nobody else but you, sir, would I have disturbed 
myself iSn the auspicious occasion. To-day! yes'erday! 
did I tell you that my daughter was married? Yes, sir, to 

*VtT You couldn't do better, my dear White Horse if 
vnu intended <riving your daughter a husband. Just listen 
I me for a moment ; 5 you will Sblige me by gomg up -your- 

^r^^^^X^one is a father, 

J::;J°o/kpat.ence) - candles, sir, yes, s,r, and flowers , 

y<? Gi£' Afterwards you will bring up some refreshments; 
tea, for instance. 



IO UNDER A VEIL. 

Pri. Tea, sir ? 

Cha. Yes ; tea, tea, tea. 

Pri. Senna tea ? 

Cha. No, confound you, ordinary tea ! 

Pri. Ordin — ordmorary — onding {Charles impatient) — 
You're not ill, I hope, sir ? 

Cha. Not in the least, thanks. {Going, Charles stops him). 
Ah, by the way, landlord, that lady in the next room — what 
sort of a person is she ? 

Pri. Char— ming, sir ; be-a-u-ti-ful. Oh ! she's much 
handsomer than her father ; but if hereafter he should 
betray her, if he should — 

Cha. Who the devil are you talking about ? 

Pri. My shon-in-law. 

Cha. Confound your son-in-law ! 

Pri. Yes, sir, certainly, sir : that's what I say, and — 

Cha. Be off, and do what I told you. 

Pri. Yes, sir, directly ; but you'll understand that on 
such an auspicious — 

Cha. There, there — be off; Red Lion — he's gone. 

Pri. (tttrning at door). White Horse Hotel, sir, please. 

[Exit. 

Cha. (alone). I suppose he'll do what I've told him. I 
ought to change my coat too. Upon my honor (dressing 
himself), I'm delighted with my evening ; and somehow or 
another, oddly enough", I feel quite curious to see this 
woman ; in fact, I begin to be interested. It's so long since 
I've been in the least interested — yes, it's six months since 
any thing of the kind has happened. And my heart is, after 
all, but human : it detests a void. [Goes on dressing. 

Enter Prichard and George, l. 2 e., carrying candelabra 
and vase of flowers. 

Pri. (still drunk). George, your conduct is schandalush : 
your master's daughter is married to-day, and you take no 
more notish of the event than a cow, than a cow or calf ; 
you've no heart, George, you've no shoul. 

George. But, sir — 

Pri. Hold your tongue ; pray for her happiness, and go 
down and tell her I'm coming. [Exit George. 

Enter Lucy i e. l., veil hi hand, and long cloak on, hiding 
figure. 

Luc. (perceiving flowers). Oh, what a charming change ! 
I congratulate you, sir, 



UNDER A VEIL. II 

Pri. I'll tell her, madam, she will be delighted ; such a 
day, you understand, madam. If she's only happy! May 
heaven — 

Cha. He's having a reel in the next room now. 

Luc. Who are you talking about ? 

Pri. Eh, my daughter, madam ; at this moment she's so 
happy — may she be so all her life! and as to your maid, 
madam, she dances as if my daughter's happiness depended 
on her legs, you understand. Madam, of course I mean — 

Luc. Perfectly ; be good enough to open that door, and 
show the gentleman in, who is in there. 

[Sits down, and puts on veil. 

Pri. But, madam — 

Luc. Do what I tell you. 

Pri. {hesitating, yet opens door of communication, and 
enters Charles's room). Sir ! 

Cha. All right, I've heard; you can announce me. 

Pri. You wrote your name in my book ; but you see, 
sir, my daughter's — 

Cha. You've forgotten it ; say Mr. Charleston King. 

Pri. {re-entering L. h.). Mr. Charles, son of a king ! 

Ltic. Son of a king ! 

Cha. {entering). Charleston King, at your service, madam. 

Pri. {aside, going). A veiled woman in my house on 
such a day ! {Exit. 

Cha. {taking a chair near Lucy). It is really too good 
of you, madam, to receive a man in your rooms who you 
never saw ; and I scarcely know how to thank you. 

Luc. You will thank me, sir, by explaining how it is that 
one can be — 

Cha. Too lazy for any thing. 

Luc. Precisely. If you will take the chair near you, you 
can be seated. 

Cha. Well, you see, in this world men have all sorts of 
faces. (P richard enters with tea-tray.) Confound this 
fellow ! Just as I was getting on so nicely ! 

Pri. {putting down tea). Madam — 

Cha. Talking of faces, let me draw your attention, madam, 
to this one {pointing to Pri.'s face). There is a face that has 
committed faults — crimes. 

Pri. Crimes ! Faults ! Me, madam ! me, sir ! Here is 
the best tea, which upon this auspicious day — 



13 UNDER A VEIL. 

Cha. That'll do. 

Pri. Crimes ! Faults ! Yes, madam, your maid has 
charmed us to such an extent with her dancing on this 
auspicious — 

Luc. {taking no notice of Pri.). Go on talking, sir, whilst 
I pour out the tea. 

Cha. Well, madam, in consequence of my misfortune my 
lifetime has indeed been a miserable one, — sorrow upon 
sorrow, faults accumulating upon faults. 

Pri. {leaving). Crimes ! Faults, indeed ! [Exit. 

Cha. My friends always insisted on declaring that I was 
too lazy to do any thing ; and the unlucky star that I was 
born under, gossiping tongues, and certain circumstances 
all combined, seemed to favor such a prediction. 

Luc. But, sir, was this merited ? {Making tea.) Will 
you have a cup of tea, Mr. — Mr. — 

Cha. {absorbed). Apollo. 

Luc. Mr. Apollo. 

Cha. Madam ! Ah, a thousand pardons. I was ab- 
sorbed in thinking of my miserable self. 

Luc. {getting interested). Have you no relations ? 

Cha. I had an uncle, a well-known merchant, but he died 
two years ago. 

Lice. And didn't he leave any thing ? 

Cha. Oh, dear, yes ; he left a very nice fortune. In fact, 
he adopted this young lady on purpose to do that. 

Lttc. Oh, that wasn't right. 

Cha. I don't know that it's wrong; but it is not on 
account of this that I owe him a grudge. I heard that the 
only way in which he could discharge an obligation to a 
friend of his was by adopting this friend's daughter, who was 
left an orphan, a very charming person, I heard ; at least, so 
I was told, for I refused to put my foot inside his house. 

Luc. Curious determination ! 

Cha. Pardon me : not at all. The fact is, he insulted 
me, — he made me a present. 

Luc. A present ! what could it be ? 

Cha. " A v6ty handsome dressing-case ".{a waltz is heard 
playing outside), with my name engraved upon it, and below 
my name the following compliment : " Too lazy to do any 
thing." I was furious, but I wanted a dressing-case: so, 
as 1 wanted a dressing-case, I kept it. I'll trouble you for 



UNDER A VEIL. 1 3 

another cup of tea, at least if you don't find me too lazy for 
that ? [Handing cup. 

Luc. With pleasure. [Hands cup. 

Cha. Thanks ; don't let's talk of my unfortunate self any 
more ; a little more sugar, please. 

Luc. This country band really plays that waltz charmingly. 

Cha. {listening and pondering). Yes, oh, yes ; how often 
have I heard that air, and how happy have I been ! 

Luc. That waltz ? 

Cha. My mother used to play it to me when I was a little 
child! 

Luc. Have you any control over yourself ? 

Cha. Most certainly, a good deal even ; ask me to prove 
it. 

Luc. You would not grant what I ask. 

Cha. 1 wouldn't. Ah, madam ! you want to send me 
away. 

Luc. Not at all : only I wished to explain to you, that, 
never having worn a thick veil in a room, I'm simply stifling. 

Cha. I can quite believe you. Nothing, nothing is so 
dangerous as a thick veil : you must take it off at once, — 
you must. 

Luc. If you can sufficiently control yourself to sit in a 
chair here without turning your head, I will sit behind you, 
and we can finish our conversation without my being stifled. 

Cha. {reproachfully). What, madam ! 

Luc. Well, you must choose ; for, as I don't want to die 
of suffocation, I shall be forced to give you your conge. 

Cha. {taking chair down front of scene, and sitting). 
Madam, this is the second time it is my good fortune to 
save your life to-night, in return for which — 

Luc. {advancing with a cup of tea in one hand, whilst with 
the other she keeps him down in the chair). Then, sir, I am 
to understand that, notwithstanding all the misfortunes con- 
nected with your nickname, you have still hope. 

Cha. Yes, — hope, that poor little creature that nothing 
can kill. 

Luc. It is, then, this hope that takes you to Baden ? 

Cha. Baden is, as far as I'm concerned at this moment, 
my last hope in this world; then, if my luck is once more 
against me, if fortune fails to help me, if that poor little 
creature, hope, succumbs to bad luck, why, then — 



14 UNDER A VEIL. 

Luc. You'll go and join your mother. 

Cha. Yes, madam, I shall go. 

{Endeavoring to turn round. 

L?ic. If you do that, I shall have to tie you with my hand- 
kerchief. Don't you think now, joking apart, that it would 
be wiser, without tempting fortune at Baden, to go to your 
" mother at once " ? (Waltz music again.) She'd play to 
you again. (Listening.) Come, do you hear that waltz? and 
when you hear it once more by her side, — that dear mother, 
— you'll be happy, and — 

Cha. Ah ! then, in reading my letter, you evidently did 
not understand, did not comprehend. 

Luc. Comprehend what ? 

Cha. The country that my mother is gone to. 

Luc. No. 

Cha. It is the Country of Peace, of Repose, — the only 
land from which the mother cannot return to console her 
child. 

Luc. (making a movement as if to show herself). Then, 
sir, am I to understand that if you lost — you would — (stops, 
and reseats herself) — he has no mother ! 

Cha. It would not interest you, madam, to learn all these 
details ; but please to remember that you are not my friend 
George, and that I've not absolutely gone on my knees to 
you to read my letter. 

Luc. (aside, looking at Charles). Just imagine if it were 
him ! (Rising zuith animation.) Well, sir, I don't repent of 
having read your letter : in fact, I congratulate myself on 
having done so ; and I am also glad to see you here, for now 
I can implore you, beseech you, to renounce such fatal plans ; 
to beg of you with clasped hands to do so, in the name of 
your mother. 

Cha. Madam ! 

Luc. Listen, sir. I cannot explain to you my object in 
being so curious ; but what is your name ? 

Cha. Charleston King. 

Luc. Sir ! 

Cha. That is my veil. If you want to take it off, remove 
your own. 

Luc. No, sir : that is impossible ; but — 

Cha. In that case, madam, I am Charleston King, too 
lazy to do any thing, but quite at your service. 



UNDER A VEIL. 1 5 

Luc. {aside). What shall I do? {Looking round, sees 
/lowers.) Ah ! {Takes a sprig of May, and comes towards 
Cha.) Sir, we are about to part, probably never to meet 
again ; would it be repugnant to your feelings to accept a 
souvenir ? 

Cha. Pardon, madam, but you don't propose giving me a 
dressing-case ? 

Luc. Don't be alarmed. The souvenir I give you, do 
you promise to keep it? 

Cha. For ever, madam, I swear it. {Aside.) What can 
it be ? 

Luc. {kissing sprig, and leaning against back of Cha.'s 
chair). Take it. 

Cha. {looking at it, but not taking it.) A sprig of May ! 

Luc. Upon which I have just left a kiss. (Cha. moves.) 
You have sworn never to part with it. Good ! Should you 
persist in your fatal project, at the moment when you are 
about to commit this frightful act, perhaps my poor little 
sprig may catch your eye ; perhaps it will remind you of the 
days of your childhood, those happy days that have fled 
away; those Sundays when your mother's smile was upon 
you as you filled your little arms with flowers, and brought 
your childish offering to her knees. 

Cha. Keep still, my heart ! 

Luc. If you should' have such thoughts, your courage 
will be tried ; for, in speaking to you of me, my little sprig 
will also remind you of your mother; and if you shouid 
still desire — 

Cha. {seizing sprig). No, no ! I have no longer any such 
desire {seizing her hand, and kissing it, slides upon his knees). 
I swear it to you on my knees. But I must see the angel 
who — {Lifts his head, when Lucy turns away). Ah, 
cruel ! This hand at least I hold. [Covers it with kisses. 

Luc. Give me my hand, sir, or else — 

Cha. Or else — 

Luc. Tell me your name. 

Cha. Shall I see your face ? 

Luc. No, no ! I cannot possibly — 

Cha. Madam, I implore you ! I beseech you ! 

Eliz. {outside). It's me, mam. There's no key. 

Luc. Elizabeth ! — Get up at once, and return to your 
room, I implore you ! 



1 6 UNDER A VEIL. 

Cha. Madam, I obey you ; but — 

Luc. {going towards door). Thanks, sir, and don't forget 
my lecture. 

Cha. {entering his room). In thinking of you, madam, I 
shall always remember it. [Exit. Lucy opens door. 

Elis. {entering 2 E. L.). Why, the key's fallen out. {Aside.) 
She's been up to something, I know. [Replaces it. 

Luc. {still upset). You must be tired, Elizabeth. Go to 
bed, my good girl, go. [Reseats herself, and takes up book. 

Elis. {takes off^tea tilings). I tired! Oh, no, mum! 
{Returns.) Surely thirty waltzes or quadrilles wouldn't tire 
me much ; and there's only two hours to sleep. It's not 
worth while going to bed: so, if you please, mum, I'll sit 
up with you. [Sits on sofa. 

Luc. It must, then, be that nephew, the son of his sister, 
of whom Mr. Mortimer always avoided speaking to me. 

Cha. {in next room, uneasy). What on earth made her so 
anxious to know my name ? 

Luc. At any rate, I have his promise : that's some con- 
solation. By the way, Elizabeth, did you know Mr. Morti- 
mer's nephew ? 

Elis. Well, yes, — little Charley Devereux. Oh, yes ! I 
recollect ; and I — I — {falling asleep and dreaming) thank 
you, sir : I don't dance any more. 

Cha. And to think she'll leave without my seeing her 
face! It's abominable! [Rises. 

Luc. {Looking at Elizabeth). She's asleep, poor thing ! 
She'll catch cold. [Covers. her with her cloak. 

Cha. Ah,. this window ! Perhaps there's a veranda. 

[Goes to window. 

Luc. How can I ascertain for certain that he is Mr. Mor- 
timer's nephew? I must know it somehow. 

Cha. No road here ; perhaps by the other staircase. I 
shall just go in without knocking, as if I had forgotten ; 
that's it : here goes. [Exit, slamming door. 

Luc. That noise was in his room. I think he's gone out. 
If I was certain that dressing-case he spoke of would tell 
me! {At door.) Sir, Mr. King! No answer. What have 
I to fear ? [Enters room, closing door. 

Cha. {gently opening 2 E. L. door). Yes, this is the room. 
{Looking round.) She sleeps ; my handkerchief too. Now, 
my charming girl, let me see your face. {Takes candle y 



UNDER A VEIL. 1 7 

starts back.) Confound it ! Well, there's the end of my 
dream. [Heaves a sigh, arid goes out. 

Eliz. {starting ufi.) There's somebody in the room. (Goes 
to door at back, and looks in). I knew she was up to some- 
thing : I'll find it out, see if I don't. [Exit I L. E. 

Luc. (Searching). Ah, here it is at last, — Charles Dever- 
eux. It's he, it's he ! (She returns hastily, arid bolts door.) 
Ah, how my heart beats ! what shall I do now? (Thinking.) 
The fact is, he's very nice, notwithstanding his nickname. 

Cha. (entering, and falling into arm-chair). Another 
dream, that takes itself off to the land of dreams. (Strik- 
ing table.) No, it's always the same. If you were to go to 
a masked ball where there was only one woman — oh, love ! 
oh, frenzy ! the mask falls, ugh ! no more love, no more 
frenzy. The woman's ninety, and ugly as — heaven knows 
what. 

Luc. He's come in. (Calling at door) Mr. King ! 

Cha. And such a voice ! 

Luc. Sir. 

Cha. Woke her up, I suppose. Madam — 

Luc. Sir, I should like to have a few words of explana- 
tion with you. 

Cha. (running to fasten door). Oh, by jingo ! 

Luc. He's locked himself in. (Aloud.) Pardon me, sir, 
for troubling you; but — but — if I mistake not, you are 
Mr. Charles Devereux, the nephew of Mr. Mortimer. 

Cha. I suppose you mean, madam, that that gentleman 
was my uncle. I don't dispute the fact. (Aside.) How the 
mischief did she find that out ? Ah ! it's that confounded 
landlord told her. 

Luc. Well, sir, I've a most important communication to 
make to you from his adopted child. 

Cha. But I don't want to hear what she's got to say, 
madam. You know her ? 

Luc. Yes, sir, I know her ; and I also know that she has 
been seeking you for a long time, in order to give you up a 
fortune which by right belongs to you. 

Cha. What you propose, madam, is ridiculous. I could 
never accept a farthing. 

Luc. But suppose in seeing her you happen to like her, 
and that — 

Cha. I shall never like her. 



l8 UNDER A VEIL. 

Luc. Perhaps you might. If she were like me, for 
instance ? 

Cha. Never, madam. I'm sworn celibacy, — a knight of 
Malta, in fact. 

Luc. {aside). What an extraordinary change ! {Aloud.) 
Mr. King, I'm in the greatest danger, and you alone can 
save me. 

Cha. Madam, I've saved you twice to-night, and I dis- 
tinctly refuse to do it any more. 

Luc. {aside). He's absolutely getting impertinent. Sir, I 
have something to return to you that belongs to you, — a 
pocket-handkerchief. 

Cha. Thanks: I've got it, — one with a monogram. I 
really believe I must barricade my door. 

[Puts furniture against door. 

Luc. He's got it ! Why, he must have come in here, 
then; and — and — of course he saw Elizabeth with my 
cloak round her. I see. Ha, ha, ha ! 

Cha. Confound her, she's laughing! She laughs too as 
if she was only twenty. 

Luc. So, sir, you refuse to open the door ? 

Cha. Quite impossible, madam. I'm gone, I'm a long 
way off, I'm on my road to Baden. 

Luc. Pleasant journey, sir. {Aside.) It can't be helped, 
I must have recourse to more violent means. [Exit L. D. 

Cha. I verily believe she's going to burst the door in : 
I'd better bolt. The devil ! this is becoming serious. It 
almost reminds me of my adventure amongst the savages in 
Africa, where the daughter of a king, with'rings in her nose, 
took a violent fancy to me. The king favored the marriage, 
and told me quietly that I had the choice, if I didn't marry 
his daughter he'd eat me. I at once answered, " Your Maj- 
esty, I prefer to enter your family to your mouth ; I'll marry 
your daughter to-morrow." And during the night I escaped 
to the coast. Let us do the same, and escape to the coast. 

[Makes for door. 

Pri. {appearing at door drunk). Miss Lucy Mortimer 
wishes to have the honor of seeing you, sir. 

Cha. Miss who, did you say ? 

Pri. Well, sir, beg pardon, it's your cousin's uncle or 
your uncle's cousin. 

Cha. Ask the lady to walk in, wretched man. 



UNDER A VEIL. 19 

Pri. {announcing Lucy, who is in Elizabeth's cloak 
with a thick veil on). Miss Lucy Mortimer. 

Cha. {advancing confused). Madam, I thought I — 
Luc. {speaking ^to him in a disguised voice, and throwing 
back veil). We'll, sir, what do you think of me? 

Cha. Ah, madam ! Even the most confused man in the 
world could but confess that you are charming. {Aside.) If 
my neighbor were only half as pretty ! Charming is not the 
word ; but, excuse me, you come here at five in the morning, 
and ask me what I think of you. Well, that's all right, I 
suppose ; but pardon me if I go further, and venture to ask 
in the most humble manner in the world a little question. 
Luc. {same voice). I'm listening. 

Cha. I scarcely know how to put it, but by what curious 
coincidence do you come to know my name ? 

Luc. {in ordinary voice). Because, sir, I found out. 
{Points to dressing-case^ Because it's the name of a kind, 
frank, brave young fellow, whom I really don't find too lazy 
for any thing, and whom I've also learned to know as too 
honorable to misinterpret. 

Cha. That voice ! impossible. {Points to L. H.) It can t 
be you. Who could I have seen there just now ? 

Luc. My maid, who was asleep whilst I was here, read- 
ing your name. 

Cha. Why, it's like a dream. But your husband, 
madam — 
Luc. He too has gone to that land of rest. 
Cha. You are then — 

Luc. Miss Lucy Mortimer, your cousin, who can no long- 
er retain the fortune that so justly belongs to you. 
Cha. {confused). But I absolutely refuse to — 
Luc. Ah, if you refuse me, I shall ask you to give me 
back my sprig of May. 

Cha. {kneeling). Never. I will keep it to the last mo- 
ment of my life, and with it the hand I now hold. 

[Sinks on his knee. Door opens. 
Luc. Get up : here's some one coming. 
Enter Prichard, r. 2 e. 
Pri. Madam, sir, the postilions are harnessed : I mean 
the horses. ' ■ 

Cha. Confound that landlord ! — Come here, landlord. 
{Takes Pri. up c.) Did you ever hear that this hotel of 



20 UNDER A VEIL. 

yours was infected with a malady of the most infectious 
character ? 

Pri. Sir, I beg most distinctly to state that — 

Cha. Landlord, you're very drunk. 

[Pushes him through door into 7iext roo?n, where he 
falls on sofa. 

Luc. Oh, Charles, dear ! I hope we sha'n't catch it. 

Cha. Don't be afraid, dear : the malady which I allude to 
is one from which we are both of us suffering, and it is one 
that has but one remedy for its cure. (To audience.) Dear 
friends, the malady is love : the remedy is marriage. If 
any of you are suffering from some of the premonitory 
symptoms of this insidious disease, you will, I feel sure, 
accord us your utmost sympathy. But if there should be 
any here who have not yet been attacked, and who wish to 
avoid contagion, let me strongly recommend them to avoid, 
upon any pretence whatever, a conversation with a lady 
which is to be carried on 



UNDER A VEIL. 



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ftkyg fof Sir[ktetitf U 

BY CEQRCE M. BAI 014 529 M9 

Author of "Amateur Dramas;' " 7%<? J/imfc Stage" " 77*e Social Stage," " 77ie Drawing- Room 
Stage" " Handy Dramas" " 7%e Exhibition Drama," "A Baker's Dozen," <fcc. 

Titles in this Type are IVew Plays. 
Titles in this Type are Temperance Plays. 



DRAMAS. 

/# Three Acts. Cis. 

The Flower of the Family. 5 
male, 3 female char 15 

Enlisted for the War. 7 male, 3 fe- 
male characters 15 

My Brother's Keeper. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char 15 

The Little Brown dug. 5 male, 3 
female char 15 

In Two Acts. 
Above the Clouds. 7 male, 3 female 

characters 15 

One Hundred Years Ago. 7 male, 

4 female char 15 

Among the Breakers. 6 male, 4 female 
char. 15 

Bread on. the Waters. 5 male, 3 female 
char 15 

Down by the Sea. 6 male, 3 female 

char 1 - 

Once on a Time. 4 male,' 2 female char. 15 
The Last Loaf. 5 male, 3 female char. 15 

In One Act. 
Stand by the Flag. 5 male char. . . 15 
The Tempter. 3 male, 1 female char. 15 

COMEDIES AND FARCES. 

A Mysterious Disappearance. 4 

male, 3 female char 15 

Paddle Your Own Canoe. 7 male, 

3 female char 15 

A. Drop too Much. 4 male, 2 female 

characters. 15 

A. Little More Cider. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char 15 

A Thorn Among the Roses. 2 male, 6 

female char 15 

Never Say Die. 3 male, 3 female char. 15 
Seeing the Elephant. 6 male, 3 female 

char 15 

The Boston Dip. 4 male, 3 female char. 15 
The Duchess of Dublin. 6 male, 4 fe- 
male char 15 

Thirty Minutes for Refreshments. 

4 male, 3 female char 15 

We're all Teetotalers. 4 male, 2 fe- 
male char 15 

Male Characters Only. 
A Close Shave. 6 char 15 



A Public Benefactor. 6 char. . 
A Sea of Troubles. 8 char. . . 
A Tender Attachment. 7 char. 

Coals of Fire. 6 char 

Freedom of the Press. 8 char. 



COMEDIES, &c, continued. 

Shall Our Mothers Vote? u char. 

Gentlemen of the Jury. 12 char. . . 
Humors of the Strike. 8 char. . . 
My Uncle the Captain. 6 char. . . 
New Brooms Sweep Clean. 6 char. . 

The Great Elixir. 9 char 

The Hypochondriac. 5 char 

The Man with the Demijohn. 4 

char 

The Runaways. 4 char 

The Thief of Time. 6 char 

Wanted, a Male Cook. 4 char. . . . 

Female Characters Only. 
A Love of a Bonnet. 5 char. . . . 

A Precious Pickle. 6 char 

No Ore no Pay. 7 char. 

The Champion of Her Sex. S char. . 
The Greatest Plague in Life. S cha. 

The Grecian Bend. 7 char 

The Red Chignon. 6 char 

Using the Weed. 7 char 

ALLEGORIES. 

Arranged for Music and Tableaux. 

Lightheart's Pilgrimage. 8 female 
char 

The Revolt of the Bees. 9 female 
char 

The Sculptor's Triumph, i male, 4 fe- 
male char 

The Tournament of Idylc ui.t. 10 
female char 

The War of the Roses. S female char. 

MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC. 

An Original Idea, i male, 1 female 
char, 

Bonbons ; or, the Paint King. 6 male, 
1 female char 

Capuletta ; or, Romeo and Juliet 
Restored. 3 male, 1 female char. . 

Santa Claus' Frolics 

Snow-bound ; or, Alonzo the Brave 
and the Fair Imogene. 3 male, 1 
female char 

The Merry Christmas of the Old 
Woman who lived in a Shoe. . . 

The Pedler of Very Nice. 7 male 
char. 

The Seven Ages. A Tableau Entertain- 
ment. Numerous male and female char. 

Too Late for the Train. 2 male char. 

The Visions of Freedom, ii female 
char 



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